


Just Keep Swimming

by Akumi



Series: Darcy Does April [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy can too, Family Feels, Fuckyeahdarcylewis April Challenge, Gen, Home, Kidnapping, No doughnuts were harmed in the making of this, Prompt Fill, Shawn Spencer did it, Sorry Not Sorry, This got a little dark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tweed is ridiculously hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumi/pseuds/Akumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting back and surviving is a harder battle than she thought, but she will win.</p><p>She has to.</p><p>Please don't let her die in this place she doesn't know with the taste of her own blood on her tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Keep Swimming

The trail before Darcy suddenly twisted and went into a steep incline, marking the very last straw of this complete shittastic day. If this trail elevated, that meant she was going the wrong way because hiking up a mountain was the absolute last thing she wanted to do right now. Realizing she'd spent almost the whole day going the wrong direction snapped something inside her. 

Darcy's head fell back as she let out a hoarse scream that echoed around the vast nothingness that surrounded her. "Motherfucking shit fuck fiery douche canoe!" she tried to yell, but that scream stole the last of her voice and it came out a harsh painful whisper. Tearing off the long and heavy tweed coat, she slammed it onto the leaf covered forest floor and pointed a raging finger at it and her surroundings. " Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck YOU!"

Panting and a little light headed from the surge of rage, she tried the deep breathing that always seemed to work for Bruce when facing his rages. She snorted in disdain because anger management was not one of her gifts and the deep breathing only made her realize how dry her throat was. 

Her hair was wet with sweat and sticking to her neck and face, her clothes were clinging to her sweat soaked skin, the once white button up shirt turning a disgusting yellow in some areas, all thanks to it being almost a hundred degrees Fahrenheit out. She'd already had to pee once in the underbrush, obviously without toilet paper because she didn't trust any of the leaves enough to rub them against her vagina. There was road rash on the right side of her face, she's pretty sure at least one finger on her right hand was broken and her right knee had gone from throbbing to screaming. Her whole right side was just one huge fucking nerve ending of agony. The blisters on her feet had blisters and she couldn't help but imagine blood and pus filling her shoes with a shudder of revulsion. Deciding to ignore having to face that image and not having the supplies to take care of it anyway, she forced herself to turn around and go back the opposite way. If she sat down she'd never get back up now. 

After two steps she turned back around to grab the tweed coat with a detachable cape from the ground and walked stiffly towards the underbrush. She hid the coat behind the bushes and weeds she had grown to despise since this all started and made sure it wasn't visible. Groaning, she stood up and continued backtracking her course. She should have taken off the coat right away, but she honestly didn't think she would get this lost and the brown color blended in more than the bright white shirt she wore underneath. She didn't know when the asshats that took her would realize she'd escaped, but if they found a way to follow her, she didn't want to paint a target on herself.

Once she realized she had run into a forest with trails she had just assumed there would be directional markers that would help her reach a campsite or a ranger station. Apparently wherever the hell she was didn't believe in having clear markings. The only signs she saw were ones pointing different directions with names she didn't know and in some cases appeared to be in a different language entirely. That had been a terrifying moment when she saw the first sign in what looked like Russian and was sure her kidnappers had somehow taken her all the way to Russia. She had followed the sign since the trail didn't seem like it was headed upwards and came across two more signs that were in English and she awoke from that nightmare. 

Darcy wished she had paid more attention in middle school science classes when they went over vegetation and how to identify plants and trees because she was lost and kept repeating the mantra "One, two, three? Leave me be," in her head. 

Today was supposed to be a fun day, damn it, she ranted in her head as she just kept walking. She'd had her Sherlock Holmes tweed coat with a matching Deerstalker hat, she'd even bought a pipe from an antique shop to complete it. Sure, it was technically just National Tweed Day, but why not go all out if you're going to rock the tweed? This was all whoever decided today should also be National Walk to Work Day's fault. 

She worked in Stark's giant ego monument and lived there, but to adhere to the day Darcy had decided to go out early this morning and walk to a little bakery she loved and get doughnuts for bribery purposes. Sometimes Agent Single-Handily-Took-Down-A-Ring-Of-Gunrunners-Before-Breakfast liked to try and make her adhere to a more professional dress code, and Darcy found that if he had a red velvet doughnut with cream cheese filling he looked the other way. In fact, she's pretty sure Son of Coul started making subtle remarks about her clothes because he saw her bribe Jane the same way and he wanted to profit as well. Spies. What can you do?

So as she was walking back towards the tower while arguing with herself about whether it was feasible to eat a messy doughnut and walk through the throngs of people at the same time or not, one of those people bumped into her roughly, jarring the doughnut box. Darcy bemoaned the inevitably smeared doughnuts she'd be left with because when they get tossed against each other the frosting ratio is never even for any given doughnut. Some will have more frosting now and others will be bereft of it. It just ruins the entire experience and causes tussles over the more frosted ones.

Turning to glare at the frosting ruiner, Darcy's vision swam and her mouth became parched. Rapidly blinking her eyes, pulse racing, she physically couldn't make a sound any louder than a whimper as the man wearing a black sweatshirt put his arm over her shoulders and started steering her towards an alley, her doughnuts littering the sidewalk behind them. 

No one looked at Darcy and her kidnapper.

No one cared enough to.

Her thoughts were vague whispers and the panic clawing through her veins became an obscure mental rambling. She knew she was in danger, she knew something horrible was happening, but couldn't seem to grasp onto anything long enough to care. She was shoved carelessly into the trunk of an older car and darkness swallowed her. 

She woke up with a bitter taste in her dry mouth, dry eyes, and an uncoordinated body. Instant panic swamped her and she had to slam a hand over her mouth to stop the scream building in her chest from releasing. She ended up slapping her forehead and poking one of her eyes, but it broke the hysteria, so she'd call it a win. 

Everything moved fast after that. The minimal training she took for such occurrences kicked in and she kept pretending she was in an action movie to keep her sanity. She wasn't ready to face this as reality. Darcy took inventory and found she only had her clothes and her coat, her hat lost, and she started looking for way out. She knew she was in a moving car, the radio blaring and engine thrumming. At least it seemed they were on a paved road since it was a fairly smooth ride and she thanked Thor for small mercies. 

Trailing fingers against the truck lining closest to her feet, Darcy once again thanked Thor for them having an old car, because she knew how to open the trunk from an old episode of "Psych" where Shawn was in a remarkably similar situation. Ripping away the hard lining, the sound was covered by the loud music. These kidnappers were obviously new. She studied the back of the break light and let out a relieved breath to see it was easily detachable. Maneuvering around to get the best force, Darcy kicked out her leg sharply, sending the light flying off towards the road. 

Waiting those few minutes to make sure the kidnapper(s?) didn't notice the sound was torturous, but once it passed Darcy struggled to turn around in the compact space. When her hand fit through to outside her eyes misted, but she refused to cry now. Straining as far as she could, Darcy reached the trunk release and pulled while her other hand was ready to catch the trunk door so it wouldn't fly up. One tear did fall when she found it unlocked and it released into her waiting hand, the fresh air hitting her face. 

Forcing herself to focus even as the adrenaline set her blood on fire, Darcy cracked the lid a tiny bit and tried to estimate how fast the car was going. If someone was already following her for a rescue, she'd jump out regardless. Since no one seemed to be close to finding her if she jumped out and injured herself too bad she'd be an easy target. Taking in her surroundings all she saw was what looked like a mini forest of trees. While she wasn't a fan of hiking through nature, she recognized it for the shelter it was. 

Deciding the speed seemed to actually be just a little above twenty miles per hour, she took a bracing breath and rolled as close to the opening as possible. Taking another breath because the first did nothing, she ignored the tremors in her hands and reached one out to grip the outside of the trunk. In a sudden explosion of movement, Darcy lifted the lid and used every muscle possible to propel herself outwards in a tucked roll while trying to close the lid behind her with the hand still gripping it. 

She hit the road with a disturbing thump, her right hand ripping from its grip on the still moving car with a hollow crunch and pop she felt echo in her mind. Luckily, she landed on her left side so her head was protected from the initial impact and she had time to throw up her right arm before a full role and protected that side to avoid head trauma. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough to stop the right side of her face from dragging against the cement. Her knee jarred heavily against the ground and that right hand was raging in agony. Forcing herself to stay in motion and continue the role, she rolled right into the underbrush on the side of the road. 

Not taking the time to pause, Darcy searched for the car and saw it still driving down the road in the distance, the lid miraculously closed. Holy shit on a stick, she'd fucking done it! Taking a few breaths to relish the win and get accustomed to the pain she refused to focus on more than it took to assess if she was able to be mobile, she let the happiness from accomplishing her getaway settle. Darcy ignored the tears streaming down her face, mixing with her blood. She swallowed the bile at the back of her throat and her eyes burned in determination. She pulled herself up and trudged into the forest for camouflage in case they came back and just kept walking. Staying in one spot wasn't a good idea and using that road wasn't an option.

In hindsight, she should have stayed in the trees but followed along that road until she hit civilization because now here she was, almost an entire day later, still walking and fairly certain all that luck had run out. The bile was back at the base of her throat, the nausea from dehydration causing a dull panic at the base of her neck. If she didn't find someone soon or stumble across a water source she wasn't going to last much longer. Whatever drug they had used dehydrated her before she even started dripping sweat and hiking while ignoring her injuries. The road rash on her face was starting to smell and itch, her lips were so chapped they'd started peeling, and the only liquid in her throat was her own blood.

Time seemed to blur together and it was hard to decide if it went by fast or slow. The sun was setting so she knew her compass directions, but that helped little when she had no idea where she was or which direction she needed to go in. Stumbling to a stop at another fork in the road, where three arrows with unhelpful names pointed in different directions, she chose left because she was already tilting that way as her body tried to keep in motion. The brief pause made her limbs feel boneless and her head lightheaded as if stopping was no longer a thing her body did. Everything was becoming numb and the only thing that mattered was continuing on. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming," Darcy mumbled in a scratchy voice, a slightly deranged laugh falling from cracked lips. 

She had long ago blocked out that voice that whispered to her that she could stop, someone would happen upon her, rescue would find her even if she didn't move and now tried to think about the political ramifications the Avengers disavowing any political or organization affiliation would have on their future missions. Those thoughts only made her desperation for a rescue worse so she switched to mentally singing the theme song of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" instead because she used to watch that when she was a kid and it brought a meager amount of comfort to her. She never could concentrate enough to get to the last verse, her mind becoming disjointed and thoughts feeling heavy and unreachable.

She didn't know how long she had limped down her chosen path, but it was almost completely dark when a girly shriek and loud laughter broke the oppressing silence from her right. Jolting slightly, she had no energy for more movement, Darcy lurched in that direction. Desperate hope swarmed her and the world narrowed down to only that sound. "Please, please, please make more sound," she whispered because her voice wouldn't work anymore. Blood dripped down her chin and filled her mouth from moving her ravaged lips. 

She stumbled through the underbrush, making a keening noise as she accidentally used her right hand with the definitely broken fingers to stabilize herself. She refused to stop. She absolutely refused to be one of those tragic stories in a movie where the lost hiker was so close to salvation but falls and can't get there. Darcy put every last shred of energy she had into continuing towards that sound. Nothing else mattered, not the new scrapes the rough bark caused on her palms, not her feet tripping and stumbling because it was too dark to see more than a foot in front of herself, nothing but that sound. 

She had never really understood how horrifying it was to want to scream for help but literally not have the ability to do so until right now. It always seemed like an exaggeration movies used to hype up the drama. She'd never mock those scenes ever again because fuck, this was horrible. 

Just when Darcy's frenzied thoughts were taunting her and whispering the sound was a hallucination, a male chuckle filled the air, quiet enough that she'd have to be close by. She struggled to see through the trees, body still moving forward, and her breath caught when an orange glow backlighted the trees to her right. Shifting that direction, her eyes never strayed from that glow. Her breath came faster, she swallowed the blood in her mouth, and her eyes stung like they wanted to tear up, but there was no water. 

She wouldn't die out here.

She wouldn't. She refused.

Please don't let her die out here. 

Reaching the edge of the trees was the best accomplishment of her life and the dulled weak adrenaline gave her one last boost. Stumbling into what looked like a pre-made campsite, her eyes locked onto the four people circling that orange glow with a fear they weren't real and a soul deep hope that they were. One of the girls shrieked, and Darcy could sympathize in some part of her mind because if their situations were reversed she'd shriek at her too. 

The other three jumped up and looked at her with varying expressions of shock, concern, and fear, but no one moved towards her. A part of her was frustrated with their lack of action but a fog had set in her brain once that last adrenaline rush left her system, and her body was crashing. Just as she was about to pitch forward and face plant into the grass one of the men jumped towards her and gently helped her sit down. She wanted to bow down to them all, cry all over them, and name her first child after the dude in front of her, but she still couldn't make a sound to even say thank you. 

Listlessly motioning to her throat, she looked into the surprisingly nice brown eyes of the guy kneeling in front of her who was talking to the other campers with him in a loud voice, though she couldn't make out all the words. His eyebrows furrowed, then his eyes widened in understanding as he scrambled up and fetched a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and tipped the lip of the bottle against her lips, which was nice of him because her arms wouldn't be able to hold a feather safely. 

"Can you understand me? Are you hurt seriously anywhere? We're calling 911, but it'll take a bit for them to make it here. We're pretty far away from any road," Brown eyes said slowly while keeping eye contact and not letting her drink too much water.

Darcy licked her lips and tried clearing her throat, but it felt like she'd swallowed razor blades and she decided to never do that again. The water certainly helped, but her throat had been bone dry for more than ten hours by now. The damage had been done and it needed time to heal. She nodded and pointed at the phone the other man wearing a neon yellow shirt was talking rapidly on. "Use...pho-" she rasped, her voice floating away before finishing. 

"You want to use the phone? We already called 911 and the operator wants to stay on the line. It'll be at least forty-five minutes before they make it up here with a stretcher board," Neon Yellow said in an honestly sympathetic voice.

"Phone..." Darcy once again choked out in a small whisper, her face serious and determined. Holding out a shaking hand for the phone, she looked into Neon Yellow's eyes and tried desperately for a commanding aura. 

It must have worked because he handed over the phone. Darcy ended the call with unstable fingers and started dialing Coulson's number. Remembering the number was like swimming through molasses, but she entered them all correctly. She stopped before pressing send and locked eyes with Brown Eyes while pointing to herself and whispering, "Darcy."

Bless him and all his future generations because he nodded seriously, took the phone from her and pressed send. Darcy's eyes did that useless stinging thing again and some of her appreciation must have shown because he smiled at her sadly and touched her foot softly. She flinched. Even a soft touch sent stabbing pains throughout her foot. Her feet had already started to throb madly and ache worse than before as soon as she'd sat down because she was no longer walking on them and all her muscle aches seemed to wake up one by one. He snatched his hand back immediately and mouthed a sincere apology. 

She didn't know how Coulson answered his phone but Brown Eyes straightened a little and he took a deep breath before speaking. "Hello, this is Brian Larson and I'm calling on behalf of a Darcy?" Brown eyed Brian said unsurely. Coulson must have appropriately freaked out and started asking questions in that brisk emotionless tone he always adopts on missions because double B seemed startled before answering. "She stumbled into our camp in Harriman State Park about five minutes ago and wanted the phone to call you when we said we called 911. She's in pretty rough condition. I'd guess severely dehydrated and she has what looks like road rash on the right side of her face that looks like it's infected. Something's wrong with her right hand too since it's swollen and she hardly moves it, and there's blood from what I think is her mouth. That's probably from the dehydration cracking her lips and I'd guess her throat also since she's not able to talk above a whisper and only one word at a time. Other than those, she looks entirely beat up, but I can't see anything critically wrong and she hasn't indicated there was anything that needed immediate attention," Brian said in an almost professional tone. 

Darcy blinked at Neon Yellow in confusion, hoping he'd explain while she tried not to worry about what he said about her throat cracking. She supposed that explained why it felt like claws ripping up her insides when she tried to clear her throat earlier, she just didn't really want to face what that meant. She'd been hoping that blood she'd been tasting for a few hours now was just from her lips. She didn't particularly want to think about internal bleeding. 

Neon Yellow nodded at brown eyed Brian as he lifted the water bottle to her lips since she'd been able to hold down what she'd drunk before. "He volunteered as an EMT first responder one summer after high school," he said before taking the water away, and she wanted to whimper at the loss. 

So Brown Eyes used to be the equivalent of a baby EMT, but that's still higher than her, so she'd take it. Darcy hoped Coulson would call the paramedics to tell them they weren't needed and had already sent someone to extract her because she knew he starts tracing any unknown numbers that call his personal cell phone before even answering, and a situation like this is exactly the reason he even gave her the number. 

Brian ended the call, a furrow between his eyebrows, looking at the phone in confusion. "Your Uncle said your kid brother would be here in five minutes and the rest of your children in ten," he said in a disbelieving tone, eyebrow arching in a confused question. 

Darcy snorted and immediately regretted that decision. An inferno raged in her throat as a reprimand. Grimacing, Darcy nodded minutely to tell him that yes, that's exactly what was about to happen. She was a little startled he'd send them all, but it made her twitch with impatience for them to get here. At least, she was almost certain she knew what Coulson had meant, but what if that wasn't it at all? What if it was a more complicated code she missed? Banishing those thoughts because that way lies madness, she tried to stay in the present.

Christ on a cracker, everything hurt. In fact, everything hurt so much that it took her a minute to pinpoint the new sharp pain in her right calf. Always the damn right side! Her eyes grew wide in pain and she reached towards her leg but couldn't seem to move more than a few inches. Looking beseechingly at Neon Yellow she pointed at her calf. She hadn't suffered enough apparently because fate decided now was the perfect time for the worst charlie horse she'd ever had. 

She mouthed the words while flinching and really, these two guys were awesome because they both immediately understood. Brian gently grabbed her leg and stretched it out straight while pushing her foot back towards her head, which was just another torture as the pressure from his hand squished her blisters and she's almost positive she felt a few burst. Neon Yellow moved behind her back to stabilize her since she had no strength to counter the force of Brian's gentle pressure. Jesus, she was as weak as a baby right now. 

The pain subsided as the spasming muscle stretched out and Darcy sighed in relief. Weakly patting Neon Yellow's leg and trying to convey her mounting gratitude to Brian, Darcy nodded to let them know she was okay now. Well, 'okay' was a relative term, but her calf muscles weren't trying to revolt anymore. That's something. They both moved back to sitting before her, and she noticed Brian's hand had a smudge of blood on it. His eyes widened and then went dark with sympathy as he rubbed it off on the grass. Darcy was too tired to be embarrassed about getting her blood on strangers, but she felt the gratefulness towards him escalate when he didn't even make a grossed out face about it. Sometimes humans were pretty awesome creatures.

Neon Yellow called the girls over, who apparently were told to stay back until the guys were aware of the situation. Darcy snorted mentally, she was less dangerous than a newborn kitten right now. His hand motioned them closer when they both stuttered to a stop when they got an up close view of her. A small nasty part of Darcy wanted to knock the pity out of their eyes with her fist. Sympathy she could handle in this situation because Darcy was pretty sure it was appropriate, but pity was not and she didn't deserve it. She hadn't given up and she was still fighting. The world could suck it.

The girl with muddy blonde hair waved weakly at her with sad eyes and a concerned frown on her face, laying a hand on Neon Yellow's shoulder. "I'm Jay. This is Ty and Riva and that's Brian, since no one thought to tell you," Jay said while pointing at Neon Yellow and the black-haired girl that was moving to pick up the water bottle, and Brian respectively. She forgave both of them for the pity because she was so, so thirsty still and Neon Yellow was too many syllables to keep calling Ty in her mind. 

Riva held the bottle up to Darcy's lips and she swallowed the rest of the water in it. A part of her mind frantically hoped they had more, but it would be silly of them to only have one water bottle when they were here by choice and had time to plan supplies, so she tried to calm her clamoring mind. Darcy attempted to pat Riva's knee with her left hand in thanks, but it turned more into an awkward stroke because she couldn't lift her hand back up. Riva smiled kindly in response and set the empty bottle down.

Holy Thor, she wanted to sleep. Every time Darcy blinked her eyelids got harder to open again, each blink becoming longer than the last. She knew she'd already broken through her exhaustion barrier, but now it was all catching up the longer she remained immobile and soon she'd pass out if her 'kid brother' didn't hurry up. Please, please hurry up. 

A thump and a metal clang from behind her accompanied that thought and every muscle Darcy didn't even know was still tense turned to jello in relief. She tipped backward and laid flat on her back, eyes locking desperately on Iron Man. She'd never tell Tony but she'd never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life, and if she had tears she'd weep in gratitude. 

Safe. 

She was safe now.

She wasn't going to die in this hell hole.

She had fought back and she had survived. 

She had won.

Riva started and fell back from Darcy, landing on her behind. Brian and Ty leaped to their feet and Jay let out a familiar girly shriek. Darcy couldn't see their expressions because she refused to look away from Tony, struggling to fight that part of her mind that said he wasn't real. Logically she knew Coulson had told Brian he was sending Tony, but those paranoid questions of whether he meant the Avengers or not had burrowed into her mind and half convinced her no one was coming even if she didn't acknowledge those thoughts. So she begged every higher being in existence for Tony to say something and make him real. Begging for Tony to talk was also something she'd die before telling him about. 

The face plate of Tony's suit retracted and he knelt on her left side to the sound of mechanical whirls, the knee of his suit making a divot in the ground. "You look like death warmed over Hooters. Also, I know I'm amazing, but you didn't need to swoon at my arrival," he smirked while leaning over her slightly. His tone was playful and carefree but his eyes were running over her face and body cataloguing injuries, his brows tugging into a worried furrow. 

Darcy's eyes fell closed and the rush of relief was so strong she felt a little nauseous from it. Her lips twitched upwards and her fingers flexed with the need to have tangible proof he was here, but she just opened her eyes and locked them with his, her obvious relief making his own eyes soften. He must have read her mind though because he removed one of the gauntlets and settled his warm hand against her forehead. She let out a breath and blink slowly. Of course he would understand. He'd been through worse than her and knew the utter despair of being lost in an unknown area and the complete system-ravaging relief when you were found by someone you trusted. 

He knew. 

She wasn't alone.

He understood.

"Umm...this is your kid brother?" a male voice questioned uncertainly, probably Brian. Hesitantly ripping her eyes from Tony, Darcy nodded once when she saw it was, in fact, Brian that spoke. "I don't really think that's...possible," he continued slowly, as if he wasn't sure he should contradict her in front of Iron Man. 

Tony grunted in amusement and smirked at Darcy before looking at the audience in front of them that seemed to still be in shock. He never moved his hand from her, his fingers gently petting her hair. The constant reassurance he was there and not leaving soothed the rough edges that panic and deperation left behind. No matter what happened in the future, no matter what Tony ever did, she would love him like family for the rest of her life just for that.

"Surgery is an amazing thing, isn't it? You wouldn't know it, but she's at least fifty now," Tony said in such a sincere voice that she would have believed him for at least a second or two if she didn't know otherwise. "Modern Medicine at it's finest folks."

Riva, Jay, and Ty were nodding along like it a was a plausible explanation and Brian's forehead wrinkled with a consideration Tony's nonsense didn't deserve. Tony Just turned back to her, dismissing them from his notice and continued his gentle petting. Darcy licked her lips to wet them, but her mouth was still almost bone dry and all she ended up doing was licking up blood. 

Tony clicked his tongue at her in reprimand when she scowled and he frowned at the small dribble of blood that trailed across her cheek from the cut she reopened on accident. "Don't do that, you're looking bad enough as it is, no need to add more gore to the equation. We all know you're hurt, stop hamming it up," he chided in a joking tone, but his eyes had gone flat and angry. She knew it wasn't at her, but at what had happened to her, and for some reason that made her feel even safer. 

Between one moment and the next the campsite became windy and the engine of a quinjet filled the silence. The four campers jumped and made various noises of shock again, their eyes riveted on the incoming jet. It landed smoothly and surprisingly softly, the back opening to spill out the rest of her "children". Tony made some kind of comment, the campers gasped and swore in surprise, but she couldn't catch any of it as a new desperation filled her so completely her bones ached. 

Home. 

She could go home now.

Clint, Steve, and Bucky were the first out, followed by Bruce carrying a ridiculously large medical bag and Natasha carrying a scoop stretcher board. Clint nodded reassuringly at Darcy before going to assumably check the perimeter, his lips pulling downward in a severe frown. Bucky's eyes hardened as he saw her condition and he nodded with a clenched jaw as if telling her he'd avenge her treatment and he went the opposite direction of Clint to secure that side. Steve smiled at her in relief and a little sadly before heading towards the four gaping campers, and Bruce and Natasha headed directly for her and Tony. She watched for Thor, then remembered he went to Asgard earlier this week and probably wasn't back yet.

Tony started moving back and an irrational fear that if she lost his warm touch everything would disappear seized Darcy and she let out an embarrassing childlike whine. His eyes went soft in understanding and he shifted so Bruce and Natasha could drop down beside her, his hand never losing contact with her head. 

Bruce opened his bag and smiled gently down at her, his always present shyness and hesitancy to touch even his friends made her feel infinitely closer to home. While Natasha started sliding one section of the scooper stretcher under her head and back, Bruce started cataloging her injuries. He took out a collapsible mini IV stand, snapped it into its upright position and attached an IV bag before opening a fresh needle and assembling everything. 

Lifting her hand to get his attention, it flopped right back down, but still managed to catch his eye. Bruce quirked an eyebrow in question and she braced herself for the discomfort talking caused. "Drugged," she murmured to him, hoping he understood.

"We found a video of when you were taken and found the syringe that was used. It was a small dose of Sodium Pentothal, it should already be out of your system by now," Bruce assured her. He waited for her relieved nod before continuing to speak. "We're going to start with intravenous rehydration right away before we do anything else since your dehydration is the most dangerous issue right now. Once we get you a little more hydrated we can start some pain medicine and set those fingers and deal with everything else. I'm going to have to cut off your sleeve to get to your arm, okay?" Bruce spoke softly, making eye contact with her the whole time he talked to make sure she understood. Darcy nodded again and Bruce grabbed some scissors and cut her left sleeve around her upper arm and pulled it gently off over her hand, tossing it behind him. Once her arm was bare he took out a packet of large alcohol wipes and started scrubbing at her inner elbow.

Looking away to find one of her favorite spies she found Natasha at her feet, lifting them slightly to slide the other section of the scooper stretcher under them and her ass. Natasha moved to Darcy's right side again and very gently lifted her right arm, being careful not to jar her swollen and broken fingers, and Bruce lifted her left arm. Once both were out of the way Natasha snapped the two sections of the stretcher together, creating a solid slightly curved board. 

Looking into the cat green eyes of Natasha and seeing the anger rolling in them beneath the surface almost made Darcy pity her kidnappers because Natasha was protective of those she considered hers. And Darcy was Natasha's just as Natasha was Darcy's. 

Family. 

Her family was here.

Her super heros were the best. 

Somehow she missed the insertion of the IV needle, but she felt that cold crawling feeling under her skin IV liquid always caused and suddenly Tony and Bruce were lifting the stretcher from the ground, Tony's hand still in her hair. They moved smoothly to the quinjet, Steve, Bucky, and Clint appearing right behind them and circling the mini procession.

Darcy thought about protesting them leaving without her thanking the four campers that helped her and called the number she'd asked them too, but she'd never forget their names. She'd find them once she was healed and thank them properly in whatever way she could. They were the beginning of her salvation and they had done all they could to help her, even going so far as to get her blood and sweat on themselves. She didn't know if someone could ever truly repay that level of kindness, but she'd try with everything she had to do so.

Once the stretcher board was set on a more comfortable padded one Bruce and Natasha disassembled it, lifting her arms, detaching the sections, and buckling straps across her stomach and shins so the flight wouldn't move her. The stability of those straps was actually comforting and that was a little worrying since she didn't like being restrained before all this. She was worried about how else she would change because of today. 

Clint disappeared into the cockpit while everyone else took seats as close to Darcy as they could, knowing without her having to ask that she needed them close. Natasha sat right next to her, strapped in, and laid her hand on Darcy's bicep. "You did good Sestra. Rest now. We have you," Natasha said quietly, her voice confident. 

Darcy shut her eyes slowly and finally a single tear of relief trailed through the blood and dirt marring her cheek, leaving her skin clean and shiny in its wake. 

Safe.

She survived. 

She fought back and won.

She was home.

**Author's Note:**

> fuckyeahdarcylewis April challenge prompt fill, Day three. National Tweed day and National Walk to Work Day prompts.  
> This got a little darker than I intended and delved deeper into the astounding amount of abuse a body can sustain in just one day of being lost in the wilderness without water during hot weather. Fighting for your survival and not giving up in that situation, especially when you barely know any survival techniques, is an uphill battle. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
